


Madam President

by sweetpea73



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Mentions of Terrorism, Mentions of War, Oral Sex, Politics, sedatives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12902967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetpea73/pseuds/sweetpea73
Summary: Kyungsoo is stuck between bearing a smile in front of the country and kicking Baekhyun's head in. Also, he's not so subtly staring at Jongdae's ass, and everyone knows it. Chanyeol is just here for the cake.





	Madam President

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted from LJ and AFF  
> For Top!Kyungsoo fest 2016

Two minutes. 

Kyungsoo looks at his black wrist watch again, with yet another grimace, folds his arms back against his chest, and has the textbook definition of impatience dancing on his tapped foot. His attention is to the gate up front of the empty hangar, jittering at the lack of security and personnel. 

Kyungsoo looks at his watch again.

Two and a half minutes.

And, goddamn, he needs to take a piss. 4th coffee shot right through him, and now he’s miserably standing in an empty hangar without his two coworkers or security. Honestly, the security upstairs might be to blame, but Kyungsoo is going to pin it on Baekhyun out of spite. 

A little blip of blonde hair pops up (goddamn annoying and definitely out of protocol) into site at the edge of the hangar, along with a stampede of 13 security officers and the lanky side kick lazily jogging up. Kyungsoo, still crossed in all places, is unmoved as his blonde assistant approaches closer with a stupidly large bag strapped across his body.

He breathes out, slightly out of breath, and flashes a smile. His eyes are bright, “Hi.”

“You’re late,” Kyungsoo grumbles, and Baekhyun’s face falls.

Baekhyun gives him the look, the one where he returns to being a rebellious teenager and he rolls his eyes, and it’s fucking irritating. He leans on the cement post holding the hangar and scoffs, “Oh, God forbid you have to get the President’s son off the plane _by yourself_.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything back, mostly because he’s got a full bladder. He brushes his black suit off and doesn’t let up on the glare. “You’ve got the itinerary?”

Baekhyun bounces off the cement post with his spread grin, “Yup! All the information of the kids staff attending the conference, including passports and tickets.”

Baekhyun sorts through the enormously large bag as the security officers take their places. Baekhyun hands Kyungsoo a large manila envelope that’s a bit heavy with thick pages packed inside neatly. Kyungsoo slides the white pages out, flicking through the stack of photocopied passport photos and ticket information. The black and white faces flicker past Kyungsoo’s eyes, all faces hollowed out by exposure, but all looked recognizable. 

While Kyungsoo is flipping through the list of passengers, Chanyeol jogs up to the two assistants, but not out of breath. He’s actually in excellent shape despite the lanky appearance. He’s got a giant smile across his face, “Security is all set and ready to go.”

Kyungsoo shoves the manila folder into Baekhyun’s chest, the white pages shuffling in a now scattered pile. The air is stiff between everyone, and Kyungsoo mumbles, “Going to take a piss.”

And he leaves. One, because he’s got the fullest bladder. Two, he’s pretty much had it up to the ceiling with everything that has gone wrong today. His car’s battery has been finicky for the past week, and its finally had it this morning. Baekhyun and Chanyeol have been getting on his nerves, as always, but this extra security check upstairs only pisses him off more. Kyungsoo doesn’t like screw ups. 

After relief, Kyungsoo looks at himself in the tiny mirror of the poorly lit basement bathroom. He washes his hands vigorously with the little of the soap that’s left in the dispensary. The mirror is fogged with grime from long ago, but there’s a faint reflection staring back at Kyungsoo. He’s not sure if it’s the lighting, but his face is sunken in deeper and his eyes stare back blankly.

He frowns. He just really needs a vacation.

Kyungsoo exits back into the hangar and navigates through the basement. He hears the loud engine whir in the distance, and he grimaces. Just another check to nick off the worst assistant checklist. Tardiness is a sin.

Kyungsoo rounds the corner to be faced with a grey jet nestled in the hangar, its nose hanging over Baekhyun’s location. The other assistant stands ready at attention as personnel exit down the staircase of the private jet. As Kyungsoo approaches, he takes his place next to Baekhyun. 

“Good piss?” Baekhyun slips Kyungsoo the checklist of the attendees with a simple smirk. Kyungsoo grabs the paper and inspects it without a response.

“Check in started. Please keep it professional,” Kyungsoo says flatly, which immediately gets a fantastic snort from the other. “Where’s the pen?”

Baekhyun pats himself absentmindedly, pauses, and then panickily pats his body again. He exclaims, “Shit.”

“Language,” Kyungsoo gives him a pointed stare and slips out a pen from his jacket pocket. The click is resounding and Baekhyun grunts.

“Get off my ass,” Baekhyun huffs, but he instantly perks once the first personnel is there to check in. He’s like a light switch, instantly turned on at the flick. “Good morning. Welcome to Incheon.”

And the assembly line goes. Baekhyun greets, checks in, makes the staff feel welcome. Kyungsoo lists off their name, seat number, and tickets. Everything is in check. Security is on high alert, just in case. Chanyeol stands tall and acts as bulky and intimidating as possible. Everything is going well.

“Ah, welcome Ambassador,” Baekhyun gives the young man a smile, and Kyungsoo temporarily flicks his eyes at the young man. It’s the President’s son, Oh Sehun. He’s quite the dashing man, Kyungsoo can admit to that, and he does amazing charity work. The nightmare is actually getting him on time to any event. It’s like this man is Kyungsoo’s own personal hell, and there’s no escape until Kyungsoo finally quits his job as the Presidents assistant. But he’s too proud to let go.

Kyungsoo puts on a less dreadful face just for the ambassador. Sehun doesn’t look all that great, Kyungsoo notes the oversized black sun glasses covering half his face. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his coat and the scarf around his neck is practically strangling him. 

“Sorry,” Sehun clears his throat. “The flight over from Dubai was shit. I’m trying my hardest not to be absolutely miserable this week.”

“I’ll appreciate that more than you know,” Kyungsoo hums pleasantly, trying to be sympathetic. It’s a bit too early for him to be friendly though. Kyungsoo checks off one column and moves onto the next. “Passport?”

Sehun shuffles his hands out of his pockets empty handed. He pats his pockets, and Kyungsoo looks to Baekhyun for the déjà vu moment. Baekhyun can only give the slightest smile before returning a bigger smile to the next personnel. Kyungsoo can hear a groan from Sehun, and Kyungsoo wants to just die on the spot.

“Sorry!” A flash of blue flies in front of Kyungsoo’s face, and his eyes focus on Sehun’s stamped over picture with the glossy finish and Republic of Korea written clearly. “It was on me.”

Kyungsoo takes the passport, does a quick check of it, and checks the box off. He looks up to Sehun’s covered up face and another man he does not recognize. He’s not quite Sehun’s height, but he’s not short. He’s dressed smartly with a pullover sweater and black slacks, and he’s got a pleasant smile on his face. It’s not too cheery for early morning, and his face is actually not too displeasing to look at. 

But, goddamn, Kyungsoo is getting pissed.

“Who are you, exactly?” Kyungsoo presses, his eyebrows narrow on his brow bone. The other man seems a little caught off guard, but he recovers.

“I’m Sehun’s assistant. My name is Kim Jongdae,” the man pulls up a bright smile and extends his hand in a shake. 

“You’re not on the list,” Kyungsoo declines, eyes darting on the page, even though he’s memorized it. He can see Jongdae’s smile shrink away, and his hand droops back toward his body. Kyungsoo flicks his eyes back up to Sehun. “What happened to Mrs. Nguyen?”

Sehun shivers in his coat, stuffing himself back into his scarf. His voice is slightly muffled, “She quit about two years ago. Wanted to spend more time with her family.”

“And this man is her replacement?” Kyungsoo shifts his gaze over to Jongdae. The guy looks slightly flustered, shifting his weight on each foot, and staring helplessly at anywhere besides Kyungsoo.

“Yeah, his application was on file,” Sehun shrugged, huffing around his scarf. He leans in closer and whispers, “Do we really have to do this now? We’re going to be late for the connecting flight.”

Kyungsoo hardens his stare, “It’s not my choice. Upstairs is going to give me one hell of a time since you decided to not to forward this information. They’ll be expecting Mrs. Nguyen, not a Mr. Kim.”

Kyungsoo knows there’s an eye roll behind Sehun’s large glasses, but Kyungsoo doesn’t care. Sehun and Jongdae start to converse with one another in whispers. The assistant in the back looks slightly unsure of himself, and Kyungsoo’s getting annoyed. This is worse than the Thailand situation, but even then they managed to forge a passport. 

Baekhyun bumps him, stare on the new ambassador’s assistant. “What are you going to do about newbie?”

Kyungsoo snorts quietly and says under his breath, “Jack shit. They didn’t send the new information over, so he can hitch his own ride.”

Baekhyun clicks his tongue, “Come on. Don’t be a dick. Newbie looks like he’s on top of his stuff. I mean, he’s got an iron pressed dress shirt underneath that sweater. Honestly, it’s probably Chanyeol’s fault anyway, and you know that.”

Kyungsoo just stares silently at the new guy patting Sehun’s shoulder, whispering something to the tall ambassador with a gentle smile. Really, Baekhyun shouldn’t be relying on Chanyeol to touch anything. Baekhyun doesn’t even need an assistant because his job isn’t that hard (being an assistant to the assistant of the president). However, in the chain of command, it’s ultimately Kyungsoo’s responsibility. And that’s bullshit.

Jongdae is looking fake hopeful toward his ambassador. It’s the kind of look that a parent gives to the child asking where their puppy ran off to. Hopeful, but all knowing that all went to shit and that puppy got ran over by a car. He looks pitiful.  
Kyungsoo hates his job.

“Fine,” Kyungsoo huffs. Baekhyun perks a brow, resuming the check in process and stealing the sheet from Kyungsoo’s hands.

“It can only be you,” Baekhyun singsongs.

Kyungsoo groans, “I fucking hate you. Stop making me be nice.”

Baekhyun holds in his obnoxious laugh, and Kyungsoo is grateful for it because he’s on the edge. Kyungsoo brings back the little bits of his pride that’s left and singles the newbie out, “Kim.”

Jongdae perks up at the point and summons himself when Kyungsoo waves him over toward a further part of the hangar. He looks nervous, wringing his hands before hiding them in his pants pockets. He’s chewing on the inside of his hollowed cheeks. It’s kind of killing Kyungsoo inside.

“Sorry for all this trouble,” Jongdae is speaking so lowly, it makes Kyungsoo’s stomach lurch. He feels bad that the new guy is introduced on such a shitty day.

“You’re not in trouble,” Kyungsoo tries to sound sympathetic, and Jongdae looks a little better. “Honestly, it’s not even your fault. One of my guys must have just printed out the wrong itinerary.”

“Oh,” Jongdae hums, opening his body with less apprehension. 

“The only issue is the guys upstairs. Security is really tight, and when they see that you’re not on the list,” Kyungsoo trailed off to look up at Jongdae, and he was patiently waiting for him to finish. “Well, you know. Panic, terrorists – you know the drill.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae sounds disappointed, defeated even. His eyes are downcast, “I have all of my information with me.”

Kyungsoo feels his breath catch in his throat, but he finds it, “That’s good. That will help our case when we get upstairs.”

Jongdae shoots his head up so fast, eyes searching, “I’m still going?”

He’s practically begging, and Kyungsoo feels his stomach gurgle strangely. The other looks so desperate, and it’s making him a little crazy, like his nerves are on fire. Kyungsoo tugs a small smile, “Of course. Sehun needs all the assistance he can get at the conference.”

“Right,” Jongdae nods, and a smile is creeping across his face and bending at his cheeks. It’s cute, Kyungsoo thinks. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just stick with me upstairs, and you’ll have less problems,” Kyungsoo replies automatically. He feels better inside, like his heart isn’t a black pit of nothingness, as his coworkers would like to think. It’s weird, he thinks. He hasn’t helped a newbie out in such a long time, not since Chanyeol and Baekhyun arrived. Kyungsoo just hopes that maybe Jongdae wouldn’t turn out like them. He looks like a nice kid.

Jongdae walks back over to Sehun and the crowd of personnel that had already checked in with a huge smile on his face. Baekhyun’s already waiting for Kyungsoo to come back over and to signal for the transition to the upper security. Kyungsoo makes sure that they are filled in alphabetical order so the check in upstairs goes even faster, save for Jongdae. 

They crowd is rounded up into the staff elevator so that the whole party can fit. They are crammed in a little because of the extra security, but at least the whole entourage is together. Kyungsoo takes a headcount twice just to make sure.

After they are released, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo watch from the back as the personnel file into line at security and get screened. Baekhyun’s got a smirk on his face, and Kyungsoo knows it’s trouble. He nudges Kyungsoo a little.

“The newbie’s got an ass on him, hm?” Baekhyun squeezes out his hum just to irritate the other. “Come on. You don’t have to hide it. He’s attractive, and you totally stared at his butt.”

“I did _not_ ,” Kyungsoo slides between his grit teeth, but his eyes do stop at Jongdae’s figure in line. “And stop suggesting every guy that comes through.”

“Then stop following so many gay blogs,” Baekhyun laughs, as if it was that simple. “And learn how to clear your browser history. Or at least use incognito tabs.”

Kyungsoo opened and squeezed his fists. “Stop going through my shit.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes automatically go back to Jongdae’s figure, and does stare at his figure from the distance. He’s tiny, not intimidating whatsoever. His legs are thin wrapped around jeans, but his sweater swallows the rest of his figure. He stands shyly, pacing back and forth when the security officers draw in close. Kyungsoo takes the cue and proceeds forward.

The security guard dressed in blue asks for identification, and Jongdae hands his papers immediately without question. As Kyungsoo approaches, he can see the officer’s confused face as he darts back and forth between the itinerary and Jongdae’s passport.

“Is there a problem here?” Kyungsoo stresses authoritatively as he stands beside the quiet new guy.

The officer grimaces and gives back Jongdae’s passport. He then speaks directly to Kyungsoo, “This man is not on our list.”

“Yes, there was an unfortunate mix up. Mr. Kim is Ambassador Oh’s new assistant and he must get on this plane,” Kyungsoo gives the officer a quick look over, and it doesn’t look great. He wasn’t going to budge in the slightest, which makes Kyungsoo’s day a whole lot worse. He breathes calmly – just like in therapy. “If need be, we can settle this in a private room.”

The officer hardens his jaw because this is just an inconvenience overall. He stands firmly, “It is a lengthy process. I need full cooperation.”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo gets out automatically, while Jongdae follows quietly. They are lead to a back room that’s small and grey with a rectangular metal table. Despite the sweater, Kyungsoo can see Jongdae physically shiver. 

The security officer allows Jongdae to enter, but blocks Kyungsoo. He’s stern, “Just him.”

Kyungsoo grunts, “Fine.”

It takes another half hour, and a guilty looking Jongdae, but they finally get through security and board the jet. During these trips, because God hates him, Kyungsoo is always next to Baekhyun. Professionally, it makes sense for the assistants to sit next to each other, but realistically it doesn’t. He has to force himself to not strangle Baekhyun every time. 

“What took you so long? Get fucked by security again?” Baekhyun grins generously when Kyungsoo finally boards the jet and takes the seat next to Baekhyun. Kyungsoo stares tiredly and throws a fake punch toward Baekhyun, who quickly scampers into fear. Kyungsoo then plops down into his seat and groans.

“I fucking hate security,” He drones, letting his eyes slip closed. “Knowing my luck, Japan will be even worse.”

Baekhyun snorts, “I love your unbreakable positive attitude.”

 

Japan isn’t bad, contrary to what Kyungsoo droned on about. In fact, everything’s going okay. There was only a slight hesitation once Jongdae reached security, but they let him in anyway. Otherwise, the transportation arrived on time and helped bring the luggage and guests to the hotel straight away. 

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun slip into their black car separate from Sehun and Jongdae. Chanyeol, as always, jogs up to the car and slips in. He breathes out a lengthy sigh and rubs his large hands together. He perks up, “Gosh, it’s a lot colder out there than I thought.”

Kyungsoo gives Baekhyun a look, it’s hard and stern, and Baekhyun stares in return. It’s only a few seconds until Baekhyun caves in. He looks over to Chanyeol, does the Kyungsoo stare and mimics Kyungsoo’s voice, “ _It’s October, not beach body July, you fucking dumbass_.”

Baekhyun blinks out of the stare and then narrows his eyes at the others attire, “And skinny jeans, really?”

Chanyeol tries to defend himself by shrieking, “They’re fashionable!”

Baekhyun looks at him in disbelief, mouth agape, “You’re an officer – not a teenager! Can you even run in them?”

Chanyeol hesitates and then turns weak like a noodle. He squeaks, “I can jog.”

Baekhyun laughs hysterically, throwing himself back into his seat. Those laughs turn into pitiful cries, “Wow. We are so fucked.”

“No! I still have my gun and I can take bullets,” Chanyeol argues, ripping off his shirt to reveal the black vest, but it is just empty gushes about his security toys.

“You can’t even run to take bullets for us,” Baekhyun is still in hysterics. “Just because you wanted to fit in with the cool kids. Un-fucking-believable.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he sat through their entire tirade all the way to the hotel, but he thanked God that he could block the two idiots out most of the way.

The hotel they arrive at is tall amongst its rivalry chains. It’s adorned with beautiful glass window panes at its front and has a grand archway. It’s great for high priority figures around the globe to stay at these hotels because they always come with their own security and are precautious. Kyungsoo lives and breathes efficiency, and this hotel and convention does their best to appease him. Everything has to be perfect. Everything has to look like its running smoothly even if it’s shit on the inside. All that matters is that the President is in the good light.

When they arrive at the hotel, the assistants form another line and makes sure that everyone has a hotel room and key.

“If you lose your key, that’s on you. In order to prevent this, keep your key on you at all times during the conference,” Kyungsoo explains in his stern voice. It happens every year, and Kyungsoo wants it to be avoidable, 1. Because it’s a hefty price, and 2. There’s valuable government information within officials rooms. If someone steals a key or happens to obtain an officials key, Kyungsoo will just have another headache on his hands. Having a key on the person’s body is a lot harder to steal.

Sehun and Jongdae approach. Sehun clears his throat, “So, when’s Mom arriving?”

“Her flight gets in at around noon tomorrow. She’s coming back from her work in Caribbean,” Kyungsoo leads them away from the lobby and into the elevator with Jongdae and Baekhyun. He can see Sehun grimace.

“You mean her “charity”,” Sehun grits out with a condensing tone. Kyungsoo shifts his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet. The whole elevator ride is stiff. 

Once it reaches their floor, Kyungsoo steps off, but holds the elevator doors open. He turns back and stares at Sehun with a tiny bit of remorse, “We’ll talk about this later.”

Sehun nods promptly, and the elevator doors close and rise. Baekhyun gives Kyungsoo a look immediately.

“What was that?”

“None of your business,” Kyungsoo walks past him and enters his room down the hall. “Good night.”

 

Kyungsoo wakes up at 5:00 am the next morning. He always wakes up early to go to the gym. Honestly, sometimes he wonders if he would take a break if he was given one. He never allows a real cheat day or day to relax. Everything was constantly moving and constantly changing.

The gym is downstairs with 5 treadmills and some weight stations. Kyungsoo heads in, dressed casually in shorts and a shirt and inserts his headphones into his ears. He’s currently listening to a podcast interview with a scientist who made color chrome glasses for people with color blindness. It’s interesting, Kyungsoo thinks, that seeing color is something most people take for granted.

The workout isn’t too hard on him, treadmill running for an hour and some weights. He’s not too bulky, but he needs to be in some physical shape in order to be within the government. When Kyungsoo first started, he thought that he was going to go straight into the security job that Chanyeol currently holds. It’s simple grunt work, stand and look intimidating. 

Kyungsoo puts up just a little bit of sweat when he gets off the treadmill and turns to do the weights. The door to the gym opens and Kyungsoo turns his had slightly to notice the company. 

“Ah,” the bright voice called from across the room, and Kyungsoo’s eyes fleet to look at the skinny figure across the room. It’s Jongdae once again, slightly timid underneath the gaze of a superior. He’s got a brave little smile on his face, “Good morning.”

Kyungsoo only grunts in response, and they set off to their own worlds. Kyungsoo is at the rack and is seriously considering doing dips or just a regular set of weights. He ends up doing a regular set, curling his arms with a medium sized weight. 

He’s between reps when his eyes drift up, mind trying to distract from the good burn of the weights. His eyes land on the slim body on the treadmill, body bouncing against the machine. The shiny surface of Jongdae’s bare hairline catches Kyungsoo’s eyes. He watches in silence as Jongdae continues to run with tiny panting breaths at the near end. Kyungsoo feels an embarrassed flush run up his back and he ends his rep early.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo hears the treadmill slow to a stop. He turns back, but cannot meet the others. Kyungsoo instead pays attention to the shiny surface that Jongdae wiped down his neck. “Do you want to get breakfast? Figured that no one else would be up this early for it.”

Kyungsoo can’t see his obvious bright eyes, but the gentle curve of the others lips is kind of heart stopping. Or Kyungsoo is still recovering from his workout. 

Kyungsoo denies that he’s a pushover, but his stomach rumbling interrupts their conversation. Jongdae laughs, but Kyungsoo feels himself crumbling just at this stupid little interlude in his routine. Jongdae’s lips curl again with only a hint of mischievousness, “Ten minutes? I have to shower.”

He leaves, and Kyungsoo is pissed at himself for feeling so weak. This new guy is crawling underneath his skin likes bugs and it’s irritating. He’s attractive – there’s no doubt about it. But Kyungsoo doesn’t have time for distractions, and he’s efficient at shutting it out. Jongdae is just yet another bump in the road, and a really pretty one at that.

After a quick shower and a quick change, Kyungsoo headed back downstairs to the open breakfast lounge that held a small continental breakfast. He notices Jongdae dressed down again, some black joggers with an oversized pullover to hide his shape. The other is on his phone, but his eyes flick over to Kyungsoo’s entrance and he pulls forward. 

They each grab a plate with eggs, vegetables, and rice and take the complementary coffee at the side. They sit together, but there’s silence between them. Between chews, Jongdae looks through his phone, sets it down, and eats again. Kyungsoo isn’t itching to talk, but the pattern is too distracting to not comment on. When Jongdae picks up his phone again, Kyungsoo grabs his wrist. Jongdae’s eyes really light up then.

“Just eat,” Kyungsoo says simply and void of emotion. Jongdae swallows and complies. He puts the phone face down on the table and his eyes are submissive. His whole body kind of caves in, but Kyungsoo doesn’t feel too bad.

They eat in silence again. Jongdae doesn’t pick up his phone, even if his eyes itch for it longingly. After the hearty meal, Jongdae slips out a whole folder from God knows where and flips through it on the table. The poor guy is frantically scribbling notes, numbers, and _hundreds of exclamation points and stars_. Kyungsoo sips his coffee, trying to seem uninterested. He wants to believe that he is, but this kid looks so determined and stressed. 

At some point, Jongdae’s pen starts running out. He licks it – _like an animal_ , pink swiping at the black tip. He shakes it, runs ten or twenty painful circles into the napkin to come up dry. Kyungsoo isn’t interested, but his fingers are already at his extra one in his pocket. 

“Here.”

Jongdae lights up again, thank you’s on his tongue, and scribbles again. Kyungsoo peers at the paper, since now he’s invested into the situation voluntarily. 

“Last minute paperwork?”

Jongdae breathes a laugh, but it’s sad, “Yeah, just some touch ups. Unfortunately, the host of the panel on Thursday came down with something, so they’re asking me to find a new host and questions.”

Kyungsoo shrugs. He’s had it worse. There was the time in France where there wasn’t an interpreter and there was a terrorist threat. But, of course, he handled it. It’s the job of the assistant after all. 

“It could be worse,” Kyungsoo offers, but it doesn’t look like it’s helping. Poor Jongdae is just frustrated, scribbling down notes, crossing off questions. It reminds him of the younger Baekhyun first starting and picking up a lot of his own paperwork. Of course, with that, Baekhyun was his own subordinate. Jongdae isn’t quite, but he is a fresh face. As much as Kyungsoo says he isn’t a pushover, yet again, he feels bad. 

“Who were you thinking for replacement hosts?” Kyungsoo asks, sipping his coffee again. Jongdae lightens up a little.

“Well, I was hoping to get someone whose been in the business – like Yoo Jaesuk, or Park Jungsoo. A character like those,” Jongdae lists, looking through his notes for any other suggestions. 

Kyungsoo hums. Jongdae is definitely thoughtful about these things. Getting a host that is charismatic and funny to a Presidential conference is a key, since these types of addresses are pretty dull. 

“There isn’t much time, so I’d have to do some begging,” Jongdae drums his fingers on the table in thought. He gets a little lit smile and chuckles, “But you throw the word _‘President’_ around, and that usually gets the job done.”

From Kyungsoo’s angle, it looks like Jongdae is batting his dark lashes purposefully. It’s an innocent feature that flatters his face, along with the knowing little smile. He wants the favor, he’s literally drawing the image for Kyungsoo and it’s terrifying how suckered in Kyungsoo feels. Kyungsoo groans, and flips his phone out.

“I guess I could pull some strings,” He says, and once the last syllable falls off his tongue, he wants to reel it back in. He regrets the way his body automatically presses into the contacts for Jungsoo’s agent. He’s supposed to be hard. He’s supposed to be emotionless and unbreakable, a perfect asset next to the President.

Jongdae’s face is glowing, smile cascading over his lips and eyes wide. It settles and unease’s Kyungsoo’s stomach all at the same time. There’s a rush of skepticism that runs down Kyungsoo’s spine. It wasn’t wrong, he convinces himself, since Jongdae is a new face. Trust is earned, and Kyungsoo must be careful. Jongdae may have a convincing face, but Kyungsoo can’t let his guard down that easily. He’s smarter than that.

“I’ll call in the hour, and I’ll give your number for a callback,” Kyungsoo says, slipping his phone into his pocket. Jongdae still grins, but Kyungsoo just stares into the blackness of his coffee. 

 

Later that evening, there is a call from the President’s security that the President had landed and was heading for the hotel. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun drop their takeout instantly and try to clean up as best they can. It’s only early evening, but they’re dead tired from adjustments to the conference and working on minute details of each panel and attendees. They both hastily throw on dress shirts and slacks and haul out with their own security. 

It’s dark outside once the black cars pull up to the hotel and into the securely placed garage. Security swarms around the back vehicle and another clown car team piles out to confirm the identities of the assistants. Baekhyun rolls his eyes as he gets patted down and smacked on the ass for the up-teenth time, but it’s all protocol.

The lead security officer opens the door for the President, and a figure in dark clothing steps out. Kyungsoo subtly steps on Baekhyun’s foot for him to stand a little straighter. Kyungsoo clutches the itinerary for the entire conference and it’s thick in his hands.

“Madam President,” Kyungsoo acknowledges as the woman in dark clothing approaches. She’s tanned slightly from her excursion in the islands, and doesn’t look a day over 30. Of course, her tiredness isn’t visible from the last procedure, but she looks good. No question.

She smiles warmly, “The cold weather doesn’t suit you. Let’s hold the conference somewhere warmer next time. I’m sure Mr. Byun would like it, hm?”

Baekhyun stutters, “R-right, ma’am.”

Kyungsoo remains cold and dutiful, “Perhaps, but let’s discuss it later.”

They lead the security team and the President into the back elevator for service up to her suite. The ride is squished with at least 15 security personnel, but the President doesn’t seem to mind. She’s got a beautifully sculpted face and a body that’s thin for her age. 

They stop half way through, however, and the President addresses the sudden change. She says gently, “Mr. Byun, if you would. I need to discuss some things with Mr. Do.”

“Oh. Of course, ma’am,” Baekhyun says hurriedly, trying his best to squeeze past all the security. Kyungsoo knows this silent journey all too well, but he keeps his flat face, void of emotion. If it were anyone else, they would take the moral high road. But Kyungsoo wants to keep his job, so he must bear with all that comes as an assistant. 

When security clears the suite, and it empties out, Kyungsoo and President Oh are left with two guards within the room. The President leaves her coat draped around her shoulders, but reveals a dark green dress adorned with black jewels. She crosses her newly slenderer legs and relaxes into her cushions. 

“As you know, my husband will not be attending any days of the conference,” She says casually, not hurt in the least. Kyungsoo grabs his phone and notes it.

“What do we say to the press this time?” Kyungsoo says flatly. Any condensing remarks would land him in hot water. 

The President doesn’t smile, red lips flat lined like her sons. She doesn’t look to Kyungsoo, her perfect nails instead. “He’s still in treatment for cancer.”

Kyungsoo pauses his writing, “Should you or I say it?”

A sigh escapes her lips, pretty and frustrated. Kyungsoo watches as the President eyes flicker, and cold needles prick at Kyungsoo. She says with razor look, “I ruined my makeup last time.”

“Fine,” Kyungsoo replies, pointedly pressing his phone to highlight the quote to give the press. His lips are pressed, but the rest is relaxed and flat. “Anything else, Madam?”

She turns on the dime and relaxes, “Is everything ready for the conference?”

“Yes. All the questions directed toward you are the same as I sent you – and I’ve typed out your approved responses if you want to memorize them,” Kyungsoo hands several sheets of paper to her. She looks at them careful, eyes drifting over the questions approved from months ago. The President and her assistant went over each question and collaborated answers to make her in the best light. Simple, easy and clean. 

“And for Sehun..?” 

Her eyes still flick over her own pages, but she pauses when Kyungsoo doesn’t immediately answer. She waits expectantly, like a stern mother. 

“One question slipped past his assistant,” Kyungsoo handed the list to her. She scans it, but her eyes land on the circled, starred and underlined anomaly. She looks at it with revulsion smeared on her lips. “I took care of it.”

She breathes with astonishment, “Good. We don’t need him to say anything stupid.”

Kyungsoo can only reply shortly, never honestly. He knows everything that goes on, yet he doesn’t. He’s tied into something that’s morally questionable, but he doesn’t have all the details. He does know to keep his mouth shut and not let it out, and it’s changed him. He’s left his feelings at the door ever since he stepped inside her office.

“You did well this year, Kyungsoo,” She says, flipping the pages back to the front. “Above and beyond expectations, as always.”

Kyungsoo nods in reply and helps her to stand. She pours herself a drink from the complementary wine set on with mini table. She offers some to Kyungsoo, but he declines. 

There’s a knock at the door, and they all pause until security clears with it. The head guard turns, “It’s Sehun, Madam.”

She breathes in deep, “Let him in.”

Her face changes once the door opens and is met with her stone-faced son. He looks like he was getting ready for bed, but he’s awake when he storms into the room. There’s a standstill between them, Kyungsoo hanging awkwardly in the middle.

Sehun’s face melts, “Hi, Mom.”

The ambassador is a lot taller and wraps his arms around his mother’s open frame. She smiles, “Aw, Sehun. You’re too tall for Mom to hug you!”

They give the embrace a couple of seconds before all smiles return. The President says gently, “Mr. Do was just leaving.”

“Right,” Kyungsoo replies easily, exiting quickly on cue. “Goodnight.”

-

The morning is early once again for Kyungsoo. This time, he does a quick workout, a long shower, and dresses smartly. It’s the first day of the conference and he must be ready to tackle all of today’s problems. 

All the conference badges were previously handed out. Kyungsoo laid them in order perfectly on the small end table he has in the room. Every suit for the conference is in dry cleaner bags hung in the closet, and his shoes are polished and proper. 

Kyungsoo makes sure any blemishes on his face are covered up since he’ll have cameras on him all day. His outfit is a simple gray slacks and blazer with a white dress shirt, smart and simple. He straps on his watch, clipped his badge on his person, and carried his necessary items with him. 

He has to wake up Baekhyun, who overslept. He pounds on the door and is welcomed with a drowsy pup. He’s naked, save for some heart covered boxers. His hair looks like it got into a fight, tousled and mangled blonde hairs everywhere.

Kyungsoo looks at the half-awake assistant expectantly, but the other is almost slumped against his own door frame. 

“It’s 7:30,” Kyungsoo says, and it stirs the other a little more awake. Baekhyun blinks in confusion though, and Kyungsoo flicks his forehead. “We’re leaving at 8.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widen in recognition, “Fuck.”

And he slams the door shut, showers and dresses within 15 minutes, and they are off in a hurry. They step off into the garage, security already in lineup. Baekhyun is stumbling over his own shoes, and Kyungsoo almost picks him up and launches him into the car. It’s crazy and chaotic, and they’re not even at the convention center. 

Kyungsoo slams Baekhyun into their car and almost strangles him when they’re enclosed. Kyungsoo ruffles up the others collar in his fist. He’s seething, “What’s your problem?”

Baekhyun looks at him incredulously, “What’s _my problem_? What’s _yours_?”

He pushes Kyungsoo off him, and then takes a breath, “Look, I’m up and we’re going. That’s all that matters.” 

Baekhyun takes out a little bag that has some cover up. He takes a generous amount on his fingers and rubs it into the bottom dark circles under his eyes along with a couple of blemishes. He blends it, and looks less dragged in the mud.

Kyungsoo kind of wants to ask, but he refrains from it. He says, “If it’s something personal, just leave it out of work.”

Baekhyun is already frowning, but it still leaves Kyungsoo feeling a tad bit sour. But, in no time, they are signaled that the President and the Ambassador have entered their vehicles. They leave the hotel premises and travel across highways to get to the convention center. 

Outside, the trees are going bare for the upcoming winter season. It’s chilly and breezy, a season that Kyungsoo doesn’t enjoy. There’s too much fluctuation between fall and winter. There’s days where you get a chill to the bone and others where you’re panting from heat. It’s uncomfortable and unpredictable. 

“Let’s go over the schedule again,” Kyungsoo says, pulling up the folder with today’s initiatives. Baekhyun follows, reading the copy. “We’ve got a meeting early at 9, but I doubt we’ll be there in time. Then there’s the opening of the _World Leaders_ Conference, with the press conference immediately after.”

“You think we’ll be there for long? We’ve got 5 approved questions,” Baekhyun says, flipping through the questions on his copy.

“I hope not, but it depends on which reporter each major network brings in. I know at least 3 of them, so I just picked the major network questions and they’ll be out of our hair,” Kyungsoo adjusts his shirt collar. “The problem is the independent networks. There hasn’t been a _World Leader_ Conference in 5 years, so I’m expecting little attention to us.”

“More on the United States and Brazil. They’ve got huge scandals there,” Baekhyun smirks at the papers, probably feeling haughty. It leaves a bad feeling in Kyungsoo’s stomach.

“It doesn’t mean we don’t have to hold our own ground. The Korean and Japanese will be on our ass,” Kyungsoo warns Baekhyun, and the other fades his smirk. “So, after that, the President will be on a panel with Pan-Asian council. And then later, the _Women In Power_ panel.”

“You’ll be by her side the whole time?” Baekhyun looks up from the papers. He looks a lot better now.

Kyungsoo shrugs, “I have to be. That’s why I have you running around and coordinating with security.”

Baekhyun’s face visibly drops, and this whole morning with him is so unusual. Kyungsoo steps in this time, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Uh...,” Baekhyun starts, but can’t find the words for it. He slaps his neck to wake himself up more and he shakes his head. “No. Just have some personal issues.”

 

The rest of the conference was relatively boring. The Pan-Asian Council didn’t turn out like a complete disaster, as Kyungsoo predicted. There was some bickering between a representative from Taiwan and China’s representatives. Thankfully, North Korea never sends representatives to these conferences, and there isn’t uneased tension.

Kyungsoo watches from his corner, hidden by stage curtains. The President always does well to memorize her answers and not seem disingenuous, unlike other representatives who are stiff. She’s a great liar and a talker, that’s why she’s a politician. She’s also beautiful and acts warm, but to enemies she’s quite cold. Kyungsoo has seen it behind closed doors.

At the second round of panels, Kyungsoo is barely functioning by the end. He’s running on coffee and a couple of crackers. Baekhyun catches up to him once they’ve completed the panels in the afternoon, and Kyungsoo uses him to stand when he felt weak. It wasn’t good.

Dinner comes quick though. The President and all her personnel are escorted to a beautiful restaurant. Kyungsoo eats well there amongst the other personnel. Chanyeol and Baekhyun sit next to each other, but in a weird silence. Sehun and the President sat close, which also meant that Jongdae sat next to Kyungsoo. 

Jongdae eats like he was famished too. Kyungsoo almost scoffs at the way Jongdae widened his mouth to fit the food in. Kyungsoo silently pushes the water closer to Jongdae as a hint, and the other takes it with a smile. He sips gently, but Kyungsoo can’t help to stare at his bobbing Adam’s Apple. His throat is just a wide skin escape, probably soft and –

“How was your day, Kyungsoo?” Jongdae smile lights up like the tea candles in the center of the table. It’s warm glow flits past Kyungsoo and entices him gently. 

“Could have gone worse,” Kyungsoo says between sips of water because, suddenly, his face was on fire. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and rambles about the ‘longest week of his life’. Jongdae’s expression flickers with the candle just for a moment, but then he eats the crab from the center piece in content. Kyungsoo wipes his mouth and ignites the conversation, “I’m just glad to eat.”

“Ah, me too. Look at this delicious food! It definitely pays to be on staff for politicians,” Jongdae smiles wide, laughs warmly too. He grabs another piece of the delectable crab in the center and carefully pulls it over toward his plate. With a hand underneath cupping, he gently offers the white piece toward Kyungsoo. “Have some.”

Kyungsoo stares at it for a moment, and he knows that the dynamic duo on the other side are staring too. Jongdae places it on Kyungsoo’s plate, a simply kind gesture, and leaves it to munch on the other food. Kyungsoo stares at the crab, innocent and white, fleshy and fresh. It’s food, nothing more to it. He eats it because he’s hungry, and he swears he sees smirks flash around.

“Everyone, I’d like to make a toast,” The President steps up from her seat, as does everyone else at the table. She smiles brilliantly, her gold jewelry twinkling. “To a successful day and good eating!”

There’s a wave of clinking glasses and drinking bubbly champagne. Kyungsoo had to have two security officers and Baekhyun to force him to drink it. He’s always a stickler for the rules. 

The night ends warmly. Kyungsoo is full or drink and food, and the night is complete. The next day rises new challenges, but he’s glad to have finished this one successfully. Before he goes back to his room, he notices Jongdae’s teetering body over the railing, looking out to the night life. Kyungsoo wants to sleep, but the silhouette of Jongdae’s body is entrancing. His dress is smart, a little ruffled up from the day’s activities, but it’s tight. The edges of his lean body are dark and he blends into the empty spaces of the skyline. It’s beautiful.

“Goodnight,” Kyungsoo quickly says before he does anything hastily. He enters his room before he could take a glance at the figures reply. 

 

The second day of the conference is light hearted. The President has requested that Kyungsoo be at her side when she attends panels. It’s a little exhausting and impulsive, but Kyungsoo is quick to adapt. Again, Baekhyun oversees security and it’s carefully in his hands. Kyungsoo doesn’t admit it, but Baekhyun is damn good at his job.

Once they arrive, the President glances over the list of panels for the day. She’s dressed elegantly again, lips puckered in plum and lashes glossed in black. Her eyes scan the list as they approach the giant hall. Kyungsoo chose a light blue dress shirt with black sharp trousers, simple and clean again. Security is surrounding them like a bubble, but then again, all representatives have their own bubble.

Around the corner, Kyungsoo catches the familiar figure again. Jongdae’s dressed sharply, dark colors accenting his hollow cheeks. He’s directing a huddle of personnel around him. He’s serious and takes charge, but he doesn’t look too intimidating again. He listens carefully to a patron next to him, eyes locked in and attentive, with nods prompt on cue. Kyungsoo follows his tongue that wets his lips along its own seam. 

And once Jongdae is finished with him, he just turns slightly, sensing the following eyes. He peers into the crowd and then finally catches Kyungsoo’s eyes. He smiles kindly, eyes closed and lips curled. Kyungsoo swallows thickly. 

“Right, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo freezes and then replies automatically, “Ah, yes, Madam.”

The President smiles, almost knowingly, and white teeth are revealed behind plum lips. She nudges her assistant, “Come. Let’s sit.”

It’s not an awful day. Kyungsoo gets to listen in to the panels, but most of them are boring. They are just overexposed press conferences and only an artificial glimpse into a Leader’s world. The reason why the conference was built was to appease the people. Ever since there were major security breaches in major countries that exposed a lot of shady deals within their government, the people wanted to know. This is a week to appease the people, but even this comes with its own secrets. Sometimes, the truth that the people say they want isn’t what they want to hear. So, it comes without saying, the conferences are also shady.

The President wants to attend the panel that her son is on. It’s the _Humanitarian_ panel, something that Sehun has spent his growing years contributing to. He’s young, but spirited. He recently came off a trip from Yemen to help aid the ground doctors during their fighting. He’s also done many trips to other countries to help the poor and hungry, something that any bachelorette would love to cling on.

The panel consists of a couple of young Ambassadors like Sehun and one representatives from Syria. They discussed the refugee process and pleaded for relief. Translators from abroad translating the poor man’s cries for help were heart wrenching. Kyungsoo can feel it, even with his cold heart. 

Kyungsoo leans over to the President’s ear, “Sehun’s work in Yemen and Bangladesh look minuscule compared to the Syrian’s efforts.”

The President smiles, “Maybe that’s the point.”

Kyungsoo leans back, still contemplating the President’s words when Sehun’s questions come up. He’s handsome on stage, something that Jongdae took credit for the night before. He rambled on about shoe colors and designs with Chanyeol, something Kyungsoo isn’t particularly interested in. However, Sehun looks dazzling on stage, clean cut and unblemished. He looks powerful and influential, just like his mother.

Kyungsoo doesn’t see Jongdae around, but he is probably back stage watching over his Ambassador. Sehun is doing fine. He’s answering the questions with genuineness behind it, something that is common with his mother, even if he would deny it. Perhaps it’s the young, enthusiastic millennial inside him, but he certainly knows how to make others belief his realness.

The panel ends on a somber note, as the Syrian representative gives another cry for help. The President turns away, but knows to put on a straight face for the camera’s. As they leave, she says shallowly, “This makes all Leader’s hearts drop. They know that they are damned either if they help or not.”

“What do you mean, Madam?”

But it’s cut off at the appearance of Sehun stepping out from the crowd, assistant and two guards at hand, and only two reporters at his feet. The President intercepts, and their bubbles combine as they walk down the halls toward the next panel.

“Well done,” The President is all smiles for the two reporters still biting at Sehun’s ankles. There’s a couple flashes of cameras at this point, but not too many to blind you. The President gives her son a kiss on the cheek, and Sehun smiles and recounts the panel to her.

Kyungsoo steps in tide with Jongdae’s speed and notices the other furiously tapping away at his phone. He knows that furious whirl that assistants get pulled into, and he’s kind of proud that Jongdae is working this hard. He doesn’t seem so new after all.

“Preparation?” He asks dully, but slightly more interested than he normally is.

“Mhm,” Jongdae replies, pen in his mouth. He looks up briefly and breathes finally. He swipes the pen out of his mouth and smiles. “You don’t know how appreciative I am for you getting Park Jungsoo. Really saved my ass.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, “Yeah, it’s not a huge thing. Like I said, could be worse. I’ve had to deal with a lot tougher situations in a shorter amount of time.”

Jongdae’s eyes get a little twinkle in them, or it could just be the flash of the cameras. His voice is low, “You’ll have to tell me all about it sometime.”

Before Kyungsoo could say anything, his shoulder is ripped back by a strong hand, and his ear is covered by a mouth and slew of words, “Need help.”

Kyungsoo looks to see an out of breath Chanyeol (still wearing fucking _skinny jeans_ ), and he’s in distress. Kyungsoo feels his face tug out of the pleasure he was in, and now the boss returns. He questions Chanyeol with his eyes, standard procedure between them. 

“I can’t find Baekhyun,” Chanyeol huffs, and both Jongdae and Kyungsoo pull away. “I’ve been calling him, but he’s not picking up. And he ran off, and _shit_.”

Kyungsoo sees that the other is visibly upset, but the worst is that it is in front of some press. Kyungsoo pushes them back, and sternly instructs Jongdae, “You’ve got a panel to run. Go, this isn’t your matter.”

Jongdae looks distressed too, “But I can help with Baek- ”

“Did I stutter?” Kyungsoo’s voice drops low and his eyes are deadly. Jongdae doesn’t say anything, turning on his heel and shaking off the sad puppy look.

“Where was he last?” Kyungsoo asks as he guides Chanyeol over to the exclusive areas to have some breathing room from the press. 

“He’s been running around, but I saw him at the second hall center,” Chanyeol says, but it’s in mumbles. Kyungsoo grimaces, and grabs a security personnel to call in Baekhyun. In a minute, there’s a march of figures down the hallway, and out pops Baekhyun. He looks busy, constantly turning toward the beeping of his phone or the updates from walkie talkies. 

Once he stops in front of the scene, his face turns grim. He looks guilty, like he’s going to be punished. Kyungsoo darts his eyes between the two idiots, both with their heads down in guilt. He frowns, and starts walking past Baekhyun.

He pauses, and presses, “I thought I told you to not bring personal matters to work.”

Up close, Baekhyun wants to squirm away. Kyungsoo can see the guilt and torn ways that Baekhyun feels through his locked jaw and downcast eyes. It’s childish, Kyungsoo thinks. He can’t believe that he’s breaking up a stupid fight between his two idiots. It’s truly unfair that Kyungsoo’s job is to balance politics and petty little arguments with his subordinates. 

“Just do your job. Settle this outside of work,” Kyungsoo leaves the backway and stomps toward the next panel. 

The panel that Sehun is on is _Young World Leaders_ , and it’s quite impressive. Jongdae is the coordinator for this panel, and probably running around to make sure all the microphones are sets, lights are running, and the guests are comfortable. At first glance, it looks a lot more inviting than the rest of the panels the President has been on. It’s mature, but optimistic. The entire premise is for the future of the world, and Jungsoo looks young and professional too. 

The President watches with a light smile on her face, mainly because there were cameras on her again, but it seemed genuine. She’s proud, even if she doesn’t say it. That makes Kyungsoo’s heart flutter slightly, even if his emotions should be left at the door.

When Sehun speaks about his accomplishments and goals for the future, everyone seems awestruck. More and more reporters file in, and there’s a steady flash of cameras. 

“I’m building a team to research more affordable, renewable energy – especially for the less industrialized countries. These countries will be bought in by the coal and fossil fuels, but they have been scientifically proven to harm our environment,” Sehun explains, statements rehearsed and convincing. There’s a flurry of camera flashes. “Let’s not recreate our mistakes. Let’s build a new future where everyone is given the same tools.”

The panel ends with Sehun’s words of environmental awareness and equality, and there’s an explosion of reporters and cameras at his ankles. Kyungsoo follows the President out into the hall to wait for the massive circle around Sehun and his boastful promises. It’s chaotic, with hundreds of reporters swimming and biting to get a reaction. 

Jongdae sidles right up next to Kyungsoo, heavy labored breaths on his tongue as he passes through. Kyungsoo can see that the all black shrinks Jongdae’s already tiny body, and it’s gorgeous how tiny he really is. His lips are pulled into that perfect curved smile, like he knows every thought that runs through Kyungsoo’s head. It’s driving him mad how proud he is of Jongdae for accomplishing a panel and look good doing it.

“The panel was set up well,” Kyungsoo says, watching the sea unfold before them.  
Jongdae laughs humbly, “I’m happier about the reception. That was the point, anyway.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t get it at first, but looking at the crowd of reporters, the flurry of questions, and Sehun’s radiant face, it all starts to make sense. Even the last panel with Sehun was part of the plot. It’s a much greater reaction with greater optimism behind it.

“That’s brilliant,” Kyungsoo confesses, and Jongdae’s eyes sparkle darkly. Once Sehun’s busy circle collides with theirs, they start walking. Their voices are hushed against the crowd, careful to not be picked up by a stray microphone. Their expressions are muted in fear of the cameras picking up something sinister. They all are fake for the reporters, because no politician wants to show their true colors.

“You have to think like them,” Jongdae says, rounding the corners. The security team is guiding them slowly to the exit. “You can’t play safe when it comes to good press.”

It seems kind of surreal. In a dog eat dog world, everyone is supposed to look miserable. Kyungsoo has only been in the underdog team, silent and waiting to strike. Now, it looks like they were the victors. Everyone is surrounding them with interest, and they pass by all the other politicians who are seething in jealousy. Sehun and his mother are all smiles and proud delight. It’s strange to be on top, even just for this moment.

 

The next day is the last day of the conference, and it’s relaxing. It’s a networking social, something that Kyungsoo stays far away from. He puts the effort into dressing up nicely, but he hates socializing with self-hating assistants and high strung politicians. Dare he say it, dealing with Baekhyun and Chanyeol is a little more tolerable than networking. 

Seemingly overnight, Baekhyun is back to his peppy _fucking_ prick that he is, all dazzled in a new suit. He’s sipping the tiniest martini, probably filled with more sweet and sour mix than alcohol. He’s got his grin, the one where he knows that he’s going to get smacked. Plus, Chanyeol’s staring at the cake like they’re star crossed lovers, and he’s fucking around.

Jongdae is actually socializing, like a good boy, and he’s dressed smartly too. He’s in a navy suit, and when he takes the jacket off, Kyungsoo’s eyes betray him. He’s instantly darting down eyes outlining the smooth junction on his backside. Kyungsoo is seriously trying to figure out how Jongdae could fit all that ass in those pants—

“Did you guys fuck yet, or what?” Baekhyun sips his stupid martini, leans slightly into Kyungsoo, even though they have the whole wall to themselves.

Kyungsoo breathes through his nose and tenses, “Stop suggesting— “

“You are _literally_ staring at his butt.”

Kyungsoo stops. His eyes are glued to Jongdae’s perky little butt, like the navy sea, just wanting him to swim in. He’s not sorry, but he didn’t think he was that obvious. And he certainly doesn’t want Baekhyun teasing him because his ego is too inflated to have Baekhyun stomping him all over. 

“We’re at work,” Kyungsoo argues, but he knows it’s weak. He’s not a rule breaker, but Baekhyun likes to bend the words. He pleases whoever is his employer, and he plays people. Baekhyun is Kyungsoo’s best and worst hire.

“I can cover for you if you want to go back to the hotel and…,” Baekhyun smirks, but Kyungsoo finally breaks his gaze at Jongdae’s butt to give Baekhyun a glare. 

“Don’t,” Kyungsoo warns, but it only invites the other.

Baekhyun has a wiry little smirk, and it’s festering, “Don’t tempt you?”

All Kyungsoo can do without being publicly ridiculed is just to walk away. He pushes himself off the wall that he’s leaning on and darts directly toward the center. He doesn’t have a specific destination, just _get away_. But life has a funny way of bringing people together. Specifically, Kyungsoo and Jongdae.

“Hey there stranger,” Jongdae says as their bodies brush past. It was almost as if Jongdae was waiting for him, even though he clearly looked like he was enjoying himself. He gives a kind, shy smile. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Kyungsoo isn’t terribly interested, and he’s an asshole and he knows it. He doesn’t do well with this shyness, especially when he’s in a mood. He frowns, “I’m good.”

Jongdae shrinks again, like the first time that they met. It’s like this whole week created this rushed personality in Jongdae, and now his shyness is hitting like a brick wall. It’s endearing, but not as captivating as the mysterious silhouette. But what is Kyungsoo to complain? Jongdae is hot.

Kyungsoo makes the conscious decision to leave before gets pissed off again. He beelines for the President’s circle, where she’s making small talk with the Prime Minister of India with a translator. Kyungsoo approaches slyly, and smoothly makes his way into the conversation. He shows off the little Hindi that he knows, and they leave in high spirits.

“You’re certainly in a mood today,” The President sips on the drink she has, eyes knowing. 

Kyungsoo stands firm, “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Madam.”

“You’re bad at playing dumb,” The President says with such a motherly face. She’s amused, “You haven’t taken vacation recently.”

Kyungsoo isn’t dumb, but it doesn’t feel good when you’re boss says you’re overworked. He shrugs, “I never had a use for it.”

The President laughs like an all-knowing God, pink lips mocking him. Her eyes are hawk like, staring him down intimidatingly, hoping that the tiny mouse would scurry just for the thrill of a chase. She’s like that. She’s something that Kyungsoo inspires to be: beautiful and authoritative.

“Take the night off,” She says warmly, earrings twinkling in the light. “You and the other staff too. I’ve got security for the night and don’t need anything extra.”

“You’re sure?” Kyungsoo asks, and then gets tested again with serious eyes. He nods, “I haven’t had a night off before.”

“Don’t do too much. I still need you for the flight tomorrow morning,” But she leaves with a generous smile and a night for Kyungsoo to spend in Japan.

 

“Jesus!”

The first thing that happens in the night is that Baekhyun opens a bottle of champagne and it sprays everywhere. Chanyeol and Jongdae get into a giggling fit, and Kyungsoo finally puts the cork on it before anything else gets champagne sprayed. If the night would have been any other way, though, it wouldn’t have been as fun.

“To us being fucking amazing –” Baekhyun hiccups because he’s a lightweight. “—and thank Christ we survived another conference!”

They all do a cheer, even if Kyungsoo is slightly bitter about a half flute of champagne. They end up not leaving the hotel, instead ordering out sushi and playing ridiculous drinking games. Kyungsoo feels the competitive burn inside of him, and Jongdae grins when Kyungsoo is pulled down onto the carpet and is playing 3-6-9 with them. Chanyeol is always great at that game since he already claps his hands at everything anyway. At one point, he starts slapping Baekhyun’s ass instead.

“Stop slapping my ass! Take me out first~!” Baekhyun cries, wiggling his ass as he reaches over to refill his cup. Chanyeol does stop slapping, but his giant hands are touching everyone. There was even one time where Chanyeol placed his hand on Jongdae’s bouncy leg, thick fingers pressing the insides of his thigh. Jongdae eventually pried them off, but the damage was done. Kyungsoo was fuming, and couldn’t help but stare at the imprints those fingers left.

There isn’t much alcohol left in Baekhyun’s room since Baekhyun and Chanyeol drank the most of it. Jongdae is sipping water at this point since the other two were engrossed in their own dare. Baekhyun, of course, dared Chanyeol to endure a makeover. 

“I’m pretty sure makeup tutorials don’t take a whole night,” Jongdae shouts as Baekhyun lines Chanyeol’s eyebrows with a pencil. 

Kyungsoo chuckles, “Chanyeol is still going to be ugly after anyway.”

Baekhyun glares, but it’s weak with the blush brush delicately in between his fingers like an artist. “Fuck off. You two aren’t fun.”

“Fine,” Jongdae says proudly, sticking out his tongue after just to rub it in. He turns to Kyungsoo, eyes bright and sober. “You want more drink? I’ve got stuff upstairs if you’d like.”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo replies, and as he stands, he feels soberer. Maybe he was just acting drunk off the two idiots who drank two bottles by themselves. The other two don’t see Jongdae or Kyungsoo leave, engrossed in their own game to even notice. The two assistants slip away then and up a flight of stairs. The air outside is cool and refreshing, and it’s dark enough for them to just slip away into the night.

Jongdae swipes the card and it signals entry into the dark room. It’s like Kyungsoo’s room, may be even cleaner than his own. The bed is a little ruffled, but otherwise a weeks’ worth of clothes are in the closet and a suitcase in underneath the bed. 

The only difference is the tall liquor bottles on the table. Jongdae handles one giant bottle, a little precariously, and shyly asks, “What would you like?”

“Something strong,” Kyungsoo replies instantly as he takes a seat on the bed. His body sinks into the bed and he savors the comfort of the mattress after another long day. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Jongdae calls, turning his head. He’s laughing, but it’s quite demure. Kyungsoo promises to keep his eyes open, and his gaze lands on Jongdae’s backside again. He starts at the shoulders, now hunched and slimmer. Down his back, Kyungsoo can imagine hands massaging his deltoids and nails raking down. Further, Kyungsoo’s eyes travel to the tiniest waist he’s seen. He wants to wrap his hands around it just to feel powerful.

“Are Baekhyun and Chanyeol a … thing?” Jongdae asks, mixing the drinks. His posture makes him look even smaller, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. Being demure or mysterious only makes Jongdae that more complex.

“All I know is that they’re idiots,” Kyungsoo hums. A few seconds later, something jumps to his mind and he asks, “Are you okay with that … sort of thing?”

Kyungsoo can see his ears get red. He says, a little quieter, “More than okay.”

Jongdae’s hips and ass are fantastic, a generous amount of work went to get that slim figure. Kyungsoo’s completely entranced, and he’s not sorry about it. He just knows when something is well made, and he wants to appreciate it. 

“Here,” Jongdae hands Kyungsoo the drink. It’s filled generously, and Kyungsoo takes a swig. 

He winces, “It’s definitely strong.”

Jongdae smiles knowingly, “It’s tequila and the ones that are in Japanese.”

Kyungsoo takes another drink again, and then sets it down again on the table. He finds Jongdae staring right back at him, and it’s frustrating. He looks like he’s contemplating, but he’s shy again. It’s weird, Kyungsoo thinks, that the shadows hollowed in his cheeks make Jongdae look so good, yet he’s a shy little mess. It’s cute.

Suddenly, he approaches, and his dark shadow closes in. It’s really fast, but Kyungsoo feels knees knocking into his own and then a shy kiss pressed against the corner of his mouth. It’s only a few seconds, but when he peels away, Kyungsoo feels empty. He felt like he was smacked by a freight train, yet Jongdae looks so guilty.

He’s frozen, legs locked in between Kyungsoo’s own. His hands are twitching, and he looks petrified. Then again, Kyungsoo is frozen in confusion. It was all so fast, and he couldn’t even react.

“Am I reading the signs wrong?” Jongdae asks shyly, shrinking away again out of fear of rejection. Kyungsoo thinks it’s wrong for him to be turned on by his submission.

Kyungsoo silently stands, knees knocking back into Jongdae’s. It forces the other to back up, scared of what is to come. Kyungsoo isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing either, just moving the way his body wants. It’s only until Jongdae is pressed against the wall adjacent to the bed that all motions stop. Kyungsoo continues to stare dead at Jongdae, silent and captivating. Jongdae looks nervous, eyes darting to gather all the information he can, but he’s trapped. 

Kyungsoo wants it bad, and his mouth follows. His tone is dark, “I want you.”

Jongdae looks like a trapped dear underneath him, and it’s alluring. Kyungsoo wraps one hand on Jongdae’s hip and one cupping his jaw, fingers tickling his hairline. The pads of his fingers rub circles into fabric and soft skin soothingly. Jongdae is putty in his hands, and takes the opportunity to lean in again and kiss directly. The kiss is more forceful than he expected from such a shy guy, but he isn’t complaining. It’s addictive the way that they just move together cohesively, with tug and pulls coming from both sides. He presses a lot, moves quicker than Kyungsoo wants, and wants to control. Kyungsoo doesn’t receive, but he’ll match whatever speed Jongdae is setting.

Kyungsoo is the one to lick at Jongdae’s seam, licking deep into the distinct curl and wrapping his lips around the bow. Jongdae opens without fail, and Kyungsoo presses. Kyungsoo’s fingers itch to touch, and his fingers loop into belt loops and tug Jongdae’s hips forward. Jongdae and Kyungsoo’s hips crash together, and Jongdae exhales a small gasp between dancing tongues.

As they grind on each other’s legs, Jongdae tries to keep steady by entangling his fingers behind Kyungsoo’s head and gripping the black strands. Kyungsoo watches Jongdae’s eyes flutter closed and he starts to breathe beautiful little pants in tempo. He’s so good at making Kyungsoo fall apart.

Kyungsoo starts to feel a little off balance, and Jongdae picks the presses up. His eyes open and they are daring staring right back at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo makes sure that his vision clears to focus on the wreck that’s grinding on him. He’s absolutely breathless, just a little sweat on his temple. He’s making little whines underneath the pants with his teeth clenched just to not go overboard. But there’s a defiant little smirk curled up in his lips, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s not so innocent. 

Jongdae draws out his tongue across his lips to wet them, and it’s all over. Kyungsoo breaks from their mold, hands pressing bruises into Jongdae’s hips. 

“Suck me off,” Kyungsoo orders.

“Yes, sir,” Jongdae mocks, but drops to his knees obediently. Jongdae’s eyes are dark and mystic, like his silhouette. Kyungsoo shifts their position so that he can lean against something while Jongdae expertly unzips him and quickly pulls out his already hard dick from his underwear. Jongdae releases it and watches with a smug smile as it stands on its own and twitches in anticipation. 

Kyungsoo can only watch as Jongdae teasingly wets his cock, simply trailing his saliva until it’s slick. Jongdae keeps holding the base while his tongue gives kitten licks to the sensitive tip. Kyungsoo almost feels like he’s going to black out, head swirling suddenly, when he feels the warm, velvety heat. When Kyungsoo blinks away from the swirling, Jongdae has sucked him in and bobs like it’s his job. His tongue runs along the bottom vein, stroking it while his mouth encompasses most of the rest. 

Jongdae is dark and beautiful, his cheeks hollowed in more to make a warm home for his dick. Jongdae’s eyelashes are dark and flutter open to watch from above, and Kyungsoo feels pleasure run through down to his toes. Jongdae pops off for a second, and grins kind of cutely despite stroking Kyungsoo’s dick fast.

“You like this, right?” Jongdae asks, even though he knows the answer. Kyungsoo eases a hand through Jongdae’s dark hair, and he can hear the other purr. He’s such a talker, “Watch this.”

Kyungsoo watches, and practically comes on the spot. Jongdae slowly but surely sucks his entire cock in with little strain, and it’s such a sight to see. Kyungsoo can feel his breath from his nose, and the warmness envelops again and again. He releases and then drags back on, and it’s so inviting. Kyungsoo is cloudy with his desires, and presses his hips forward dangerously. He can see Jongdae take it willingly, choking on it and desperately trying to catch his breath. 

Kyungsoo apologizes with a pat to the head, and threads his fingers through his hair again gently until Jongdae resumes bobbing. From there, it kick starts Kyungsoo’s libido and he’s on the edge. 

Kyungsoo grips Jongdae’s hair because he’s really close, and Jongdae’s lips are wrapped around his head suckling well. Jongdae, once again, pops off and continues to stroke. He keeps his mouth open, cock head propped right against his bottom lip. Jongdae’s hand is good, but Kyungsoo presses his own hand to jerk, and the electrifying nerves are flowing. Jongdae presses his tongue out and just the touch sends Kyungsoo grunting into orgasm. 

His vision is out of focus, but he can see a white mess pool onto Jongdae’s tongue in one second, and in the next it’s swallowed down his throat. In the post-orgasm haze, Kyungsoo can feel his body sway unusually like he’s exhausted. He is spent, especially from the long day, but he supposes having an orgasm like that would contribute. He stumbles, but somehow, he manages to make it onto the bed and slow his breathing. 

“Sorry. I’m usually not this tired after,” Kyungsoo apologizes, but he feels his own words slurring. It must be the alcohol, it was strong, but it hits hard. Kyungsoo rubs at his face and tries to slap himself awake. “Trust me, I really want to fuck you.”

Kyungsoo can hear Jongdae’s breathy laugh, but his vision is a little hazy. Kyungsoo can imagine Jongdae’s smile, kind and mysterious, “I trust you.”

Kyungsoo can feel fingers threading through his hair, and he wants to nuzzle into it, but his head in so heavy. He wants to finish this night strong, but damn his tired body and these numb limbs. Sleep wants him more.

His eyes finally slip closed from being so heavy.

 

When Kyungsoo opens his eyes in the morning, he feels groggy. He wakes in a familiar bed, and fists the clean white pillow. He tries to open his eyes wider and focus on the sunbeam coming in and hitting the wall. Sudden panic runs through and Kyungsoo instantly wakes up to observe the room. It’s not his, because the sun never peaked through his room in the mornings. 

Thoughts of the beautiful mouth on his body flooded back, and Kyungsoo calms his hammering heart. He checks himself. He’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, his suit jacket is laid against a chair neatly, and his shoes are at the front. However, that beauty isn’t laid beside him, and from lack of sound, anywhere around the room. 

Kyungsoo wipes his face and runs a hand through his mess bed head. He flops back onto the bed and lies in the crisp sheets. He runs through the pleasurable memories from the night before in his head and is only slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see morning with Jongdae.

Another panic moment shoots right through him when he realizes that it’s morning. He’s supposed to be up for a flight early in the morning. He quickly pats the bed to feel for his phone, and then realizes that it’s in his suit jacket pocket. He lunges towards the folded material and catches it to pull it into the bed. He scrambles for the phone and holds it like his life is on the life. 

And dear God, was it. 

Instead of the clock facing him, hundreds of messages, missed calls, and emails roll past him. There’s a lot of _WHRE THE FUCK R U???????_ and _CALL ME_ , but they seem frantic and without context. That’s when he starts reading the headlines.

_PRESIDENT OF KOREA BIGGEST SCANDAL OF THE YEAR_

_WHO’S RUNNING KOREA: GANGS OR GANGS?_

_PRESIDENT OH SOOJIN OF KOREA BRIRBED BY MAFIA_

_KOREA’S PRESIDENT HUSBAND: NO CANCER, DEAD ALL ALONG?_

“Fuck… fuck, fuck!” Kyungsoo is screaming, not believing what’s unfolding before his eyes. Half he couldn’t believe, and the other being so dumb to take the night off. This is what happens when he fucking enjoys himself.

Suddenly, Baekhyun’s name appears on the phone calling him, and Kyungsoo instantly answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, thank Christ, he picked up,” Baekhyun says a little away from the phone, probably towards security. “Where the hell are you?”

Kyungsoo frowns, “At the hotel.”

“What-?” Baekhyun asks, but really, it’s just followed by, “WHY ARE YOU STILL THERE??”  
Kyungsoo pauses, but remains firm, “I just woke up.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. THAT’S GREAT. I HOPE YOU HAD WONDERFUL DREAMS OF HAVING JONGDAE’S BABIES AND SHIT, YOU PRICK,” Baekhyun’s in hysterics, laughing wildly and scoffing a lot more than usual. “While you had fucking wet dreams, I’ve had to deal with so much goddamn stress and running around this morning. I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Listen, I know. I saw the headlines this morning, and I’m just as shocked as you are,” Kyungsoo says carefully, because yelling is not going to help. “I just need to grab my stuff, and then I’ll regroup with you guys and get an overview.”

“Kyungsoo, I don’t think you understand. I’m in _Seoul_ ,” Baekhyun stresses, and he sounds absolutely stressed. “The President was arrested and detained.”

“Shit,” Kyungsoo breathes. This is bad. This is really, really bad. “What about everybody else? Sehun and Jon-”

“From the itinerary, they left for their 4 am flight and missed this clusterfuck,” Baekhyun breathes in the microphone, but Kyungsoo can hear frustration. “But, to the authorities, you’re missing-”

“WHAT?”

“-and an accomplice to the President,” Baekhyun squeaks, and Kyungsoo throws himself into the bed. As if this day couldn’t get any worse, now he’s a suspected accomplice to something that’s _news to him_. 

“But I’m not. I swear to God I didn’t know,” Kyungsoo is pleading, and this is a new low. The fact that he’s on the phone with Baekhyun only makes it worse. This is pathetic.

“I know you’re not. I would know if you knew because you don’t _clean your browser history, you idiot_ ,” Baekhyun is smug in the moment, but he turns again to serious. “But the best thing is to just turn yourself to the authorities and answer their questions. You’ll prove your innocence.”

Kyungsoo pauses, but proceeds cautiously and lowly, “What about the President?”

“She’s fucked,” Baekhyun says nonchalantly. “But I’ve got the best lawyers in Korea if she wants to fight it.”

Kyungsoo relaxes back into the bed, head hitting the white pillow. He feels like he’s going to explode. Actually, he’d rather explode than deal with this, but this is his job. He cleans up the messes of the President. He leaves behind his morals and turns a blind eye to the worst things. It’s been Kyungsoo’s life for so long that he’s missed so much. He missed his own boss _working with gangs_.

“How did this happen?” Kyungsoo sighs. It’s kind of rhetorical, but the other end had an answer

Chanyeol’s voice slips in, “Some media outlets were given government emails and leaked conversations early this morning by an anonymous hacker. There was no message attached though and a team is trying their best to trace it back. Unfortunately, this hacker isn’t dumb and rerouted his tracking so that it bounced to different countries.”

Kyungsoo huffs, “And we don’t know if he could leak more?”

“We can’t say for certain,” Chanyeol says, and it sounds like there’s some more shuffling. “We don’t know much about this hacker.”

Kyungsoo is silent for a couple moments. He’s trying to think, but his brain is on overload. 

“Will we get out of this?” Baekhyun asks sadly, and for a reason. This has to be one of the worst scandals in Korea for this President. At the surface, it looks terrible. However, Kyungsoo hasn’t been completely stopped by any of their troubles. Somehow, they’ll get out.

“Only time will tell.”

 

\--

EXTRA:

 

“I trust you.”

Jongdae threads his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, the poor guy is literally on the verge of passing out. Jongdae watches carefully as Kyungsoo slips his eyes closed and then finally conks. Just to be sure, Jongdae tosses Kyungsoo’s head around, pulls his hair, and then finally throws it back into the pillow.

Jongdae narrows his eyes and scoffs, “I douched my ass for nothing.”

He flips himself around and off the bed to secure all that he needs. He slips his suitcase out from under the bed and marvels at the beautiful laptop secure in its compartment. He sets it up on the table and runs to grab Kyungsoo’s own personal devices and information from his room. With all the intel from the President’s assistant, Jongdae surely wouldn’t be stopped.

It takes him a little bit to crack through Kyungsoo’s own secure passwords, but Jongdae’s skilled in his trade. Plus, Kyungsoo kept a sticky note in his folder with all his usernames and passwords. Bad move.

Jongdae scrolls for about another two hours, sifting through data as its uploaded onto a flash drive. It’s a silent night, save for minimal typing. Everything is cold, still, and calculated. Jongdae’s eyes are tearing through government information like paper until…

“Ah. That’s interesting,” Jongdae smiles, connecting the dots from a document 2 hours prior. “Oh Soojin is working with _Black Club_. And she ordered them to execute her husband. All of that for a face lift? Wow.”

Jongdae turns back to Kyungsoo, whose still completely passed out from the drug. Jongdae chuckles, “Did you know?”


End file.
